From the archive.
(2007 - )
The good, the bad, the ugly, the happy and the sad. Randomly selected and brought to the forefront because
years seems enough time gone by for the past to be worth exploring. Explore →
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Fall was a welcomed change of pace after a summer of relentless travel. We only took off from LAX once all Fall, which has to be some sort of record low for us.
There was a week in Florida. Our first stop being Estero Island, where my family has made memories at since I was six months old. Our first time back after a string of hurricanes devastated the island a couple years ago. Still hasn’t fully bounced back, but I was grateful to get time in with the ones I love disproportionately more than I see. Seeing how fast my nephew Preston is growing is a blaring alarm for me to remember take pictures with him, and hell did I really strike out there on this go around.
After Estero, we drove a few hours north to visit where Alexis scattered her Mom’s ashes, and then we had few more nights at St. Pete Beach. Our main activity there was speculating if we’d get a good sunset or not. Alexis says she feels a lot of peace when she’s there. Can’t say I disagree.
Beyond all that, there were some bike rides. A four day stretch of jury duty that included self-guided architectural and food tours of downtown Los Angeles during our hour and half lunch breaks. A rare show where I not only knew every word of the headliner’s songs, but also of the opener’s. Then of course there’s Mike’s 40th. We celebrated with an immersive theater experience through… Hell? Not sure I’m nailing this description but it was very weird, very cool, and very Mike.
We capped things off with a visit from Alexis’ sister and her kids for Thanksgiving week. They’d never spent time in Los Angeles, so Alexis went all out showing them around. Everyone had fun, and I like to imagine the kids got a small taste of the world outside the confines of their hometown. Even if it takes some time for the seed of what that means to germinate. The honest highlight of their visit for me though, was exposing Micah to the greatest video game ever made, Shadow of the Colossus. It holds such a place in my heart that introducing it to the uninitiated feels as monumental as prometheus gifting fire to man. They liked it.
For the most part, it was a tame Fall, and that sat fine with me.
On Your Porch by the Format
I posted this tiny edit on Instagram stories to celebrate my wife, but since I can’t stop smiling while I watch it, the idea of it disappearing in 24 hours isn’t sitting right with me. Figure It deserves a more permanent home.
Summer was absolutely nuts, entirely too much, and unquestionably, a lot of fun.
A week in NYC with family and friends, celebrating 40th birthdays. A bachelor party in Nashville where we probably did more damage to our bodies in 48 hours than some do in 48 years. Not something to be particularly proud of, but if there’s ever a time for it, we found it. A wedding in Philadelphia where I danced to the point of being genuinely afraid to see what the photographer captured of it. Anticipating something that looks close to a full-body exorcism. Then there was a long weekend in Seattle of chasing kids and taking in views of the Puget Sound. There were dinners, concerts, sports, dog sits, baby showers. You name it. Then of course there’s that pesky career that I keep up with in between it all to maintain a living. Also not pictured here, was an entire week long Icelandic adventure.
By the end, it was all enough to have me wishing to never see anyone, or do anything, ever again. Yet simultaneously, thankful to not only be alive, but to be living.
We went to Iceland, it was awesome, but more on that later.
In sorting through all the footage for a little edit of our adventure, I realized there was no dedicated place on this site for all the other home movies I’ve made across the years. A wrong, righted today.
sixfootgiraffe.com/category/film
When I started making these little movies, the first being Alexis’ 30th birthday almost 10 years ago, I had no idea how much I’d come to cherish them. I watch them often. When I miss my friends, my family. When I’m looking for a laugh. It’s hard not to feel the acceleration of time and wonder how these years seem to keep slipping through my fingers. These little movies though, they remind me that that isn’t such a terrible thing.
Justin Townes Earle says it better than I can. “Maybe only a moment, maybe the time of your life.”
When you look past the flying trucks, Spring saw all the usual suspects. Hikes, bikes, runs, bands, friends, and a few late nights. An unusually quieter season than typical. Less party, more work. A productive place to be, but the pendulum likes to swing.
My Dad came out for a visit a few years back, but it’d been over 5 years since he and Mom both spent time with us in California. Chalk it up to those lost Covid years, and the fact that Alexis and I get out to see them once or twice a year, rain or shine. In any case, it was overdue so only felt right to make it count, and I think we did.
We started out with a train ride north, watching the mountains and the Pacific roll by for miles on end until we reached Santa Barbara. We spent a few days here, and most of it was spent soaking in the town’s beauty, it’s history, and its sun. Frankly, a little too much sun. Trust me when I tell you a hat is a bald man’s best friend in the summer. Everything we ate and drank was a home run. From oceanfront dinning to brewery bites, and everything in-between. By our last day, the spell of the town’s charm had us rummaging through Zillow, wondering if we could all just live here instead.
After Santa Barbara, my parents spent a couple days in Laguna Beach without us, so that Alexis and I could briefly get back to our jobs in the salt mines. They had a nice time in Laguna, and once they got back, we spent the rest of our days together exploring the never ending offerings of Los Angeles. And I really mean never ending.
There was Mom using chopsticks for the first time. Brunch and donuts at The Grove. A trip to the Academy Museum for a closer look at details from some of Mom and Dad’s favorites, like The Wizard of Oz and Casablanca. Tacos at Trejo’s. A tour of Alexis’ work for a glimpse at some post-production magic. Dinner at Rao’s, where the one and only, Jonny Roastbeef, gave us an authentic New York welcome in LA. Alexis introduced my parents to one of her favorite movies, How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days, and we witnessed the miracle of my Dad staying awake through all of it, suggesting he might’ve actually liked it.
We walked the Venice canals to marvel at homes as diverse as the blooming flowers all around us. There was rooftop tapas and margaritas in Century City. A 50th anniversary screening of Jaws downtown, and the wild fact that Dad saw it originally in theaters 50 years back, and hadn’t since been to a movie in half that amount of time. We clinked glasses at the highest open-air bar west of the Mississippi, perched on top of LA’s tallest building. Probably forgetting some things, but in any case, you get the picture. We made it count.
This was the first trip my Mom and Dad have taken together since they’ve both been retired. My parents are as hard working as people come. It’s how I’ve always known them. Never putting themselves first. Always leaning much further in the direction of doing the things they had to do, rather than the things they might’ve wanted to. It brings me so much happiness to see them both retired now, enjoying the shade of trees they’ve planted long ago. It couldn’t be more earned and I couldn’t be more excited for this new and long chapter of life for them. I have a feeling it’s gonna be a great one.
Summer’s right around the corner, which means I’ve just barely got around to sorting through photos from winter. Once upon a time I couldn’t imagine neglecting this place as much as I have. Not sure how much that really says though. Lot that goes on that I couldn’t have imagined.
In any case, time brought some sights along with its endless march through winter. A Santa bar crawl. A very good boy who let us adopt him for a few weeks. Fireworks on The Queen Mary. Apocalyptic skylines from the wildfires. Snowball fights with the kiddos in Tahoe. Possibly setting a Guinness World Record for most rides ridden in a single day at Disney. This was Winter.
Knowitall by Phantom Planet
Hurricanes derailed our Florida vacation plans twice back in November, but we still managed to swing something. Ended up heading to Key West for Halloween with friends, and spent a few days after in South Florida with family.
Key West was for bars, boats, pools, sunsets, seafood, ghost tours, and countless wild chickens. In essence, the parrot head life.
South Florida was for getting time in with the ones I love most, but see the least. Getting to watching my nephew’s personality take shape. Seeing Mom and Dad the happiest I’d ever known them now that they’re grandparents. Attempting to teach my brother how to properly make a drink, but absolutely failing to reach him. Getting to know his partner Olga, and sharing a few late night laughs. Thankful to be able to do these things, faintly stung that I don’t do them enough.
Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes by Jimmy Buffett
Odd fact, I know more words to Jimmy Buffett’s songs than I can even believe. Obscure songs even. Before my family lived in Florida, we’d vacation there, nearly every single year. This meant Dad driving the approximate 1,300 miles from Illinoise to Estero Island, listening to Jimmy Buffet cassettes, non-stop. One man’s hell is another’s paradise I suppose. Gotta say though, it puts a smile on my face imagining my Dad’s state of mind brightening one mile at a time, as the Illinoise winter receded further and further into his rearview mirror, and wearing out those songs about boats, beaches, and bars.
Bearing witness as my youngest friend exits her 20s. Losing our minds experiencing The Sphere in Vegas with two brothers who adopted me. Pumpkin patches with the kiddos. Reviving our Annual Haunted Tiki Party from the dead. Baking turkeys upside down and welcoming Theo to the clan on Thanksgiving. FaceTime’s featuring colossal age differences, and occasional language barriers. Hearing one of my favorite albums played live from start to finish. Seeing myself credited next to one of my oldest friends. This was some of fall.
I Wish I Felt Nothing by the Wallflowers
Showering the old friends but new parents. Weekend getaways in Palm Springs. Mick Jagger inspiring me to work on my cardio. The men being boys in Denver. Vampire Weekend at Red Rocks. Time with the kiddos by day in Seattle, and head banging to Metallica by night. Hot chicken and endless drinks in name of love in Nashville. Dancing with Future Islands downtown. This was summer.
King of Sweden by Future Islands.
A momentary break from game development to explore a creative and technical curiosity. Art is the only place where getting lost feels comfortable.
Jacarandas painting our street purple. A first Easter with my Nephew. Yachting on the Intracoastal. Catching the solar eclipse fever. Hikes and bike rides. Cocktails in San Diego. Music in Pasadena. Collecting miles at Disney and Universal. Poolside birthday donuts. This was Spring.
World Sick by The Broken Social Scene.
I’ve worked entirely from home for the past four years. I love it, and will likely never go back into an office again. That said, it’s not without its flaws.
My role at work is typically a solitary one, without much collaboration. Working in a vacuum, so original ideas have the opportunity to bloom, as opposed to being influenced or echoing what other artists around you are doing. It’s not unusual for me to go a day or two without speaking to anyone at work. Combine one of those days with one of the many late nights my wife has at her office, and I’ll go 14 hours straight without speaking a single word. It’s a weird feeling, and if I’m being honest, a comfortable one, but undoubtedly unhealthy.
I decided I needed community in my life. I don’t practice religion, so I went for the next obvious choice. A run club. I found a group that meets in my neighborhood every week, and met up with them for first time this past summer. It’s funny, but walking up to a huddle of strangers that first night, felt as nerve-racking as the first day of school. Unsure what to expect. But man, I’m so glad I did. It’s been an awesome, lasting experience. People there know my face, my name, and notice if I’ve been gone, and I can say the same about them. I found community.
Since that first run, I’ve met up with them nearly every week since and always look forward to it. Lesson being, get uncomfortable.
Finally got meet my nephew Preston in person, just as he passed his 5 month mark. Of course the first thing I did was look him straight in the eye and deliver this classic line from Uncle Buck. I can say with confidence that pictures and videos of his little arm and thigh rolls are no supplement to actually squeezing said little arm and thigh rolls. He’s a curious, handsome, and charming little man who took no time to steal our hearts. Looking forward to seeing this little guy again in a few months time for his first birthday and getting a good look at the Gulf of Mexico together.
Pumkin cannons. Dace floor destruction with Maya and Arthur. Kiss at The Bowl. FaceTimes with the newest Smith. Izakayas with out of towners. Watching a dog we considered not giving back. Showing LA to New York. Disney days. Donuts with Della. Introductory handshakes with Emmett. Green beers in Long Beach. This was fall and winter, or at least the parts I remembered to take a picture of. Really need to get better at that.
Halah by Mazzy Star.
This is a slide from the pitch deck I created for my game, Greenfield. I share the deck with people trying to understand more about the project and its status. Greenfield has gotten a lot of attention since announcing it, landing somewhere in the mild end of the viral spectrum. It was unexpected, and if I’m being honest, alarming. It brings a layer of expectation that hasn’t been at all part of Greenfield’s development.
These are all good things though. This attention has granted me the opportunity to connect with and learn from other independent game developers, as well as attract meetings with publishers interested in the project. Seeing the caliber of some of the publishers in my inbox transports me to the twilight zone. It’d be like if you were making an independent film, and Netflix or HBO cold reached out to you because they’re interested in it.
Since the New Year I’ve been diverting a lot of my time and energy towards Greenfield. Going as far as limiting paying client work to 2-3 days a week, and once Greenfield is further along, possibly doing away with client work all together so long as it’s viable. All this is to say, posts on Six Foot Giraffe will be even farther and fewer in between than they already were. That feels bitter sweet to me but the reality is, if you’re up to bat, you gotta swing.
One of my best buds Drew E. Cohen, turned 40 in October and over twenty of us from all corners of the country descended upon Indio, California to help the man celebrate.
We swam, dined, karaoked, Halloweened, baby showered, competed in Beer Olympics, and raised our glasses to a guy who’s been asked to be a best man more times than anyone I’ve ever met.
Everyone came together and contributed in their own way to make it not just a memorable weekend the man of the hour, but for us all. Truly, one for the books.
I was glad to have contributed some of my finest artist works to date for the celebration, in the form of a book cover, a cake design of biblical proportions, and Beer Olympics team bandanas. A true career high for me.
Lastly, Kelsie wrangled everyone to contribute a fun memory or well wish for a book she put together for him. Figure I’d share my contribution here, becasue I meant every word, and the truth is worth preserving:
Forty… My god, I’m so, so sorry bud. We go back a long ways now, since 2009 I think. That said, it shouldn’t be too hard for me to pick one of our memories to share here, certainly a lot to choose from. But If I’m being honest, with so many favorites, it’s not easy picking just one.
Should it be the first memory I have of you? The time you became if only for a moment, my one true lord and savior, when you literally freed me from a locked parking garage I’d been trapped in for hours on end in the dead of night. You always knew how to make a first impression.
How about the countless shows we’ve been to, where on more than a few occasions people had to tell us to shut the hell up, because no matter how desperately we wanted to see a band, it seemed to sometimes pale in comparison to how much more fun it was to just shoot the breeze and catch up. And on the topic of shows, I have to mention the time that like a modern day Moses you parted a sea of moshing kids at the Troubadour to pick up my fallen glasses for me.
Maybe it’s traveling our country together, 18 states by my count. In nearly all instances, promising ourselves we’d turn in at the hotel at a decent hour for some rest so we wouldn’t spoil our trip, but sure as the Sun shines, we’d always break that promise. Whether the lethal blow was staying out till some ungodly hour, or was actually making it back to the room as intended, but fatally talking hours on end like two kids on a weekend sleepover. Sometimes a combination of both.
We’ve done our fair share of globe trotting outside our borders too. The first time I ever used my passport was of course, with you in Peru. Something I consider to be one of the greatest experiences of my life, and in hindsight, an adventure we were either too young or too hungover to realize just how dangerous it was at times. Then there was “No Rules” in Spain. Watching snow fall while we floated in warm waters in Japan. Cramming into a flat bed truck in Thailand so the locals could pelt us with water balloons for the New Year. Chasing whale sharks and mantas in the Maldives, and exploring a tiny deserted island in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Aimlessly wandering the streets of Hong Kong, and after several hours of day drinking, declaring through an inebriated lens of optimism that we both “could totally see living here.”
Maybe it’s one of the smaller or more ridiculous memories. Watching you simultaneously hail three taxis out of thin air, when the rest of us couldn’t catch one for hours. The copy of Atlas Shrugged that mysteriously arrived on my doorstep. Crushing homemade beer towers in your front lawn like degenerates. You bringing a couch to my “Bring Your Own Chair” party in my empty apartment, and months later, you single handedly carrying that couch out of my apartment after I told you I couldn’t move it by myself. Thinking a shortcut on foot through Skid Row in broad daylight wouldn’t be that scary. Me having the best view in all of Coachella, sitting on your shoulders over 10 feet off the ground. Slayer almost ending my life. Our countless “Piano Man” karaoke duets (If Hell is real, it’s us rewatching those performances for eternity). And of course I can’t forget you helping orchestrate what seemed like all of Dodger Stadium to chant “Let’s go Kyle LET’S GO!”
Maybe my favorite memory of ours is one of the more predictable standouts. Standing up with you on your wedding day and having you stand up with me at mine. Or maybe it’s meeting Della and holding her for the first time.
I think you see the conundrum now. Can’t pick just one. There’s too many memories. I will say after all these years though, what I’m most thankful to you for, is just how far you’re willing to lean in, especially when my nature is to lean out and go it alone. You could’ve stopped inviting me out well before trying for the second, third, fourth, or fifth time that I dodged you. But unlike July 11th at Buca Di Beppo, you didn’t quit, and I’m a lot better off for it.
Yes you’re getting older, but just remember, we may be dying, but we’re not dead yet. Happy 40 my friend.
Just like that, my one and only brother Joey and his partner Olga, had a son. Turning my parents into grandparents, and me into an uncle. Technically and emotionally I already was an uncle, but this time around it’s by blood.
I’m excited to see our family growing. Excited for my mother and father’s dreams to come true. Excited to make this little person laugh and teach him anything I can along the way. Most of all though, I’m excited for my brother’s future.
Finding direction is a hard thing for any of us, and my brother is no exception to the rule. Over the years, it seemed like more often than not his compass pointed him adrift. But now, now he has his North Star. One that shines brighter and points truer than any compass needle ever could. This thought brings me a lot of peace, and I couldn’t possibly be happier for him.
Welcome to the world Preston James Smith. Looking forward to meeting you in just a few months time.
I have something cool to share today. But first, a story.
When I was a kid, I played a lot of video games. I rarely play any today, but have never stopped being fascinated by them. They sit at an intersection of some things I’m really passionate about. Visual art, storytelling and technology. When I enrolled in college 18 years ago (GOOD LORD), I naturally wanted to study game design. But as I learned more about the program, I started to believe the math requirement was beyond me. I was young, and let the idea that I didn’t do so well in school define what was and wasn’t possible for me. So I chose a Digital Arts & Design program instead. I still loved what I studied, and have since built a career that often puts me at the intersection of those passions I mentioned. It’s pretty cool, and I’m thankful for it. BUT… I never stopped wondering what could’ve been if I hadn’t quit game development before I even started it.
Then came the pandemic and lockdown and with that, some time. I used that time to finally start learning how to make video games. Turns out, it’s pretty hard. A lot of one step forward, two steps back. Even after years of working at it, it’s still hard. but I’ve sure learned a lot. Above all, I learned that making a video game is an amount of work not meant for a single person. Especially when it’s not your full or even part-time job. But man, it’s fun, and I love it. So I keep at it when I can.
But back to this cool thing I wanted to share… I made a trailer for a game project I’m developing. It’s called GREENFIELD. There’s still a daunting amount of work ahead that stretches farther than I can see, but I’m so relieved to finally have others see what’s been living only in my own imagination.
More info about the project here If you play games, you can wishlist it on Steam today too. More to come, probably not soon.
Family in Florida. Friends in LA. Lazy rivers in Palm Springs. A train ride along the Pacific. A hurricane warning in Los Angeles. Endless bands in Chicago. This was summer.
Wooly Mammoth by Local Natives
8 Planes. Countless bands. Easter in Palm Springs. Racing in Long Beach. Playgrounds in Seattle. Sunburn in Minneapolis. Toasts in West Hollywood. Nostalgia in Pasadena. A flipped kayak in Nashville. Near internet infamy in Boston. Too many drinks in Bel Air. Watching the kids get taller and friends go grayer. This was Spring and I’m tired.
We’ve Been Had by The Walkmen
Just over 10 years ago, I was about to turn 27 and hunting for ways to keep myself on a trajectory of upwards and onwards. Best as I could figure at the time, that meant leaving behind a very stable and very loved staff position I’d held for 6 years, to set out on a freelance career of uncertainty.
I had doubts. In fact, I was terrified. I poisoned my mind with the thought that I wouldn’t be good enough to secure enough work to make ends meet, let alone thrive. Even my parents, who’s advice I still seek and value to this day, basically advised me against it for other reasons, and I can’t say I blame them. It didn’t make a lot of sense on the surface to them. I loved my job, the work, the people, the company, and I was making great money for the season in my life. It was safe, and freelance was a risk. None the less, I charted my course, gave notice to my bosses and mentors through a very shaky voice, and to my own amazement, I took the leap.
It helped that I had a clear vision of what a successful freelance career meant to me, before I even embarked on it. I wanted to work less, earn more, make more art (as opposed to only directing it), and position myself to work remotely should I ever choose to leave the sprawl of Los Angeles behind. Those 4 ideas, each one a different form of freedom, was what I sought in freelance, and the promise of those ideas made leaving a job I loved, turn from unbearable, to obvious.
Looking back a decade into it, it’s clear my freelance career took shape differently than I imagined it would’ve, but I met the destination I set all the same. Put modestly, freelance has gone well. Put bluntly, last year alone I took months of collective time off, earned more money than ever, spent the majority of my days making art, and worked entirely from my home office. I attained the ideas I sought all those years ago, and it didn’t take 10 years. Some came immediately, and some took longer, but for the most part, reaching my definition of success in my career, is old news.
So, I’m not celebrating reaching some metaphorical mountain top in this moment, that’s already long been true. What I’m trying to do, is preserve the memory that I once did something that absolutely terrified me, and that it worked out alright. That I swam instead of sank. That I took a risk, and that I not only lived to tell the tale, but am better for it. It’s easy to forget how brave we once were, when we’re standing in the shadow of new fears. So here I am, trying to remember, because 10 years sure seems like an awful long time to have not rolled the dice.
Rain and Snow. Hikes and Sunsets. Friends and brothers. Sons and Dads. The Bulls in Chicago and The Boss in St. Paul. Stiff drinks and long division. This was Winter.
“Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen
The exact moment I told my Dad that one of his favorite movies of all-time, 1999’s The Mummy, will be getting a true to form continuation of the series with Brendan Frasier and Rachel Weisz reprising their roles. To Hell with the sunset, we’ve got a new Mummy in the works.
I don’t know that there’s anyone on Earth that’s seen The Mummy more than my Dad. He can, and will, recite every word of it when it comes on TV, and it’s seemingly always on. In any case, felt the moment needed to be documented for posterity.